


Strength Enough

by ThatRavenclawBitch



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1498636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRavenclawBitch/pseuds/ThatRavenclawBitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt: Aside from the emotional hug he gave Belle when she found him in the shop after having been locked up for more than 30 years, Rumple seemed to be quite composed. He’s calm and collected, he keeps his cool, but when they get home and Belle falls asleep, he completely loses his shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strength Enough

Thirty years. It has been over thirty years since he’d last spent the night under the same roof as his beloved Belle. And now here he is, with Belle just upstairs, lightly snoring away.

Rumple had been remarkably self-composed over the past several hours. First when Belle stumbled into his shop that morning, not knowing who she was, not remembering their time together, their love. He’d managed to keep it together after the Savior broke the curse, when Belle told him she still loved him and he kissed her for the first time in decades.

He’d even managed to hold himself together when, in lieu of strangling the life from Regina’s body with his bare hands, he’d set the wraith on her. He’d had Belle back for a fraction of a moment before she was storming out of his shop, leaving him again.

It was nothing more than he expected. In fact, part of him felt relief. She would go find her father, her friends from before he stole her away in return for saving her kingdom from the ogres. She could have a good life here in Storybrooke. His curious Beauty would be mesmerized by the wonders of this land. And maybe, just maybe, he could watch her from afar and know that she was happy. Better off without him. 

What he didn’t expect was for Belle to return to him claiming his monstrous tendencies were the reason she had to stay with him. And so he’d taken her back to his home, and now she is safely tucked up in his bed. 

He’d offered her any of his myriad guest rooms, but she’d insisted on sleeping by his side. She said they’d spent enough time apart, that she didn’t want to be away from him even in sleep.

He’d lain next to her until she was sleeping peacefully and then slipped downstairs to his study. There was no chance of him sleeping tonight. Rumple’s mind was going a mile a minute, filled with more pain and self-loathing than he’d felt in all his 300 years all topped off with the bitter edge of hope.

She was real. She was alive.

She’d spent the past three decades locked in a small cell, his Beauty slowly wilting in the oppressive gray prison of the hospital basement. All this time she’d been beneath his very feet. How many times had he set foot in that hospital over the course of the past 28 years? How many times had he been within meters of his True Love, never knowing how she suffered?

And she did suffer. Rumple can see it in her eyes. There is a hollowness that was never there before. He knows Belle will pluck up, she’ll put on a happy façade, she’ll try her best to ease his fears. But he knows she’s not the same girl she was when he raged against her and kicked her out of his castle. How could she be? 

There is no one to blame for her transformation but himself.

The anger in his gut that has been simmering all day begins to boil over. And he’s no longer angry at Regina, or fate or circumstance. He is angry with himself. He catches his reflection in the glass front cabinet against the wall. He is stooped over, gripping the sides of his desk. He looks small and weak and pathetic. He is nothing more than a wraith himself, sucking the joy and life from everything he touches. And if Belle stays with him, he will destroy her too.

With a frustrated cry he lashes out, slamming his cane against the cabinet, shattering the image that it holds. But one strike isn’t enough. Now that he’s started he can’t stop, the self-hatred blinding him as he lashes out at the piece of furniture again and again.

A few moments later he finds himself slumped over, surrounded by shards of glass and splintered wood. Tears he didn’t even realize he was shedding cover his face as his body is wracked with sobs.

Then he feels a small hand grip his shoulder.

“Rumple?”

He turns suddenly to see Belle, eyes wide and sad, her brown curls tousled from sleep. She’s wearing an overlarge t-shirt and a pair of his blue silk pajama pants, the cuffs rolled several times to keep her from tripping on them.

“Go up to bed, sweetheart,” he says, voice rough with emotion. “I’ll be right there.”

“Rumple, are you alright?” her blue eyes scan the carnage of his cabinet before settling back on his. Then she cups his cheek, slowly wiping away his tears with her thumb.

She’s looking at him with such tenderness, so much understanding, that something within him breaks. He collapses to his knees, burying his face against her stomach.

“I failed you, Belle!” he cries, gripping onto her hips like she is his anchor. “I failed you, just like I failed my son.”

“It’s not your fault,” she says, sinking to her knees in front of him and taking his face between her palms. 

“I should have known Regina was lying,” he continues. “I should have saved you.”

“It’s all in the past, Rumple. We can’t change the past, so there’s no point in dwelling on it.”

She’s right, of course. Magic can do much, but not that.

Belle grips his hands in hers, “What I’m concerned about is the future.  _Our_  future, Rumple. We can have one now.”

She looks so hopeful, even with tear tracks staining her cheeks. And how is it that she is comforting him? She’s always been so much stronger than he could ever hope to be.

“It was easy to blame Regina,” he says with a shake of his head. “Because it kept me from fixating on the real cause of your suffering. Me.”

“You shouldn’t have kicked me out of your castle,” Belle says after a moment. “But I shouldn’t have kissed you. I shouldn’t have tried to break your curse without knowing why. I let Regina manipulate me just like she manipulated you.”

Rumple looks at Belle as though she’s sprouted an extra head. She is utterly blameless in all this. How could she ever begin to think she is in any way responsible for what happened on that fateful day?

When he tries to interject, Belle just shushes him and continues. “She told me true love’s kiss would take away your curse, your power. I didn’t even think to ask if that was what you wanted. I was so concerned with being your hero, preoccupied with the idea that my love could save you, that I completely disregarded your wishes.”

Rumple stares at her, mouth agape. He has no idea what to say.

“So you see,” Belle says. “We’ve both made mistakes. But none of that matters now.” She runs her fingers through his hair, eyes softening. “Because I love you, Rumplestiltskin, cursed or no. And no matter how much you fight it, I’m not going anywhere this time.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him to her, resting her forehead against his. They stay there for a moment, on their knees in his battered study, just breathing each other in, existing in this moment.

“Lets go to bed,” he says at long last, taking her hand and standing with some trouble. His cane lies on the other side of the office, discarded after his rampage. Instead of going to get it, he wraps his arm around Belle and allows her to help him up the stairs to their bedroom.

Rumplestitlskin has never been a strong man, but maybe Belle has strength enough for both of them.


End file.
